


Haunting Image

by Kyarorain



Category: Ghost Trick: Phantom Detective
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-10-15
Updated: 2011-10-15
Packaged: 2019-07-13 12:56:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,106
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16018370
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kyarorain/pseuds/Kyarorain
Summary: There are very few people who could say they are actually haunted by themselves. Yomiel is one of them.





	Haunting Image

Yomiel closed his eyes and rolled over on his bunk, listening to the sound of the guards walking past. The lights went out one by one and he was plunged into the inky blackness. He soon drifted off to sleep, welcoming its embrace. After ten years of never being able to dream, he appreciated being able to do so again. It wasn't even a bother having to slumber on this thin prison cot. At least he could actually sleep.

His sleep did not go completely undisturbed as he soon jolted awake, troubled by a disturbing sensation. The hairs on the back of his neck were standing up on end. Yomiel could swear that, at that very moment, somebody was watching him. No, it was even worse than that. He was sure that they were right inside the cell with him. It could hardly be one of the prison guards coming for a visit at night. That seemed very unlikely.

Yomiel sat up, blinking rapidly. No matter how much his eyes adjusted to this darkness, he was unable to make anything out. "Is somebody there?" he called out in a soft voice. There was no answer, no sound to break the heavy silence all around him. Maybe it was just his imagination after all. Considering all the bad dreams he had, it wasn't surprising that he was a little jumpy.

In an instant, the darkness was washed away, replaced by swirling crimson hues rotating around an empty void. He uttered a soft gasp, scarcely believing he was actually seeing this. The Ghost World was not a place he had been expecting to see again. After all, he was no longer a ghost, so why?

A familiar form materialised before him, causing Yomiel further shock. The tall blond hair that pointed straight up, the snazzy red suit that he was so fond of wearing, the shades sitting upon his face which he rarely took off... this was himself he was looking at. He might almost have thought this was a flashback to that brief time he saw Sissel wearing his own face, for those few short seconds in the submarine before he cast that image aside, but the expression on the lookalike's face was not one Sissel would ever have worn. No, that twisted grin had belonged to him, and him alone, when he was bitter and consumed with thoughts of revenge, murdering people without so much as a second thought. It was a painful reminder of that person he had once become, that twisted, warped creature who went mad from loneliness and committed unspeakable crimes.

Yomiel tried to speak, to find the words, but he couldn't. What could he say when he was looking at himself? He wanted to tear his eyes away, to stop looking at the sight of his own face twisted with malice.

The other Yomiel had no such problems with speaking. "Have you given up on your revenge?" His voice was harsh and colder than an arctic storm. Had he really used to sound like that?

"Who are you?" Yomiel choked out. Maybe this was all a trick. Was it some other ghost with powers of the dead, playing a prank on him? The notion immediately struck him as ridiculous. Powers of the dead weren't that easy to come by and even if someone had happened to die in the presence of the meteorite, what were the chances that it should be somebody who knew him and even had a grudge against him?

"What kind of a question is that?" His lookalike placed a hand upon his hip, his lips pressing together in a sarcastic smile. "Surely it's obvious that I am you, or rather the shadow of yourself that you left behind when you ceased to follow the path of revenge."

A long, tense silence followed as the two stared unblinkingly at each other.

"Was it really so easy to forget about all the suffering that you went through? Have you forgotten all that anger you harboured toward the people responsible for your death? Inspector Cabanela, Detective Jowd, Lynne... have you honestly forgiven them for what they did to you?" The other Yomiel sneered. "Don't you sometimes wish you could still cause pain to them? Make them sorry for what they did?"

"Of course not!" Yomiel shouted, clutching his head. This was all completely ridiculous. Why on earth was he seeing himself, consumed with revenge? It just made no sense. "I'm not seeking revenge anymore... I don't even need to. I'm alive, dammit!"

"Really?"

The Ghost World faded away, along with the spirit who wore his face. Yomiel collapsed onto his bunk, drawing in air. It soon became apparent that something was wrong. The cold sensation of air rushing down into his lungs just wasn't there. He didn't feel it brushing against his tongue or rushing into his nose. He brought his hands up to touch his face. The feeling of skin rubbing against skin didn't register.

"No..." Yomiel started trembling, an icy ball of horror forming in his gut. He couldn't feel a thing. "No! No!" The horrified man scrambled off the bed, stumbling across the room to the cell bars. "This can't be happening!" He clutched tightly onto the cell bars, pressing his head against them and clenching his teeth. "Why... why can't I feel? Somebody, please help me! Sissel..."

It was happening all over again. He was trapped behind these bars, completely alone, and nobody was coming to help him. The sound of rushing water filtered through the silence and his eyes flew open.

The entire prison had disappeared. If he looked up, he could just make out the weak light that filtered through the surface of the sea. With every second that ticked by, the light was fading from view as it shrank away from him, dwindling down to nothing. The cell had been flooded with water and his feet bobbed a short distance off the floor. He was slowly sinking back down into the bottomless sea.

"Nooooooooo!"

Yomiel jerked awake, thrashing in the sheets that had become tangled around his body while he slept fitfully. Sweat ran down his skin in sticky rivulets, soaking into his prison garb. He clutched at the soft pillow, taking what little comfort he could from the soft fabric rubbing against his fingers, gasping heavily.

It was just another nasty dream. He was still alive, he could feel, and he wasn't sinking into the darkness. Yomiel groaned and buried his face in the pillow, struggling to banish the frightening images. A few long hours went by before he managed to sleep again.


End file.
